Chapter Eight
Xíngchéng Massage Parlor was packed.
The name made Jasper chuckle. It literally translated to “stroke.” Talk about a title being on the nose. The shop occupied the far corner of a strip mall with a red electric sign out front. It was nearly seven in the evening, and a dozen men waited in the reception area.
He had to hand it to Ms. Wu, business was booming. He didn’t begrudge anyone the ability to make a living but didn’t understand why the girls would work in such a place. And he was a little pissed at Dix for sending Vick here and to the strip club.
Speaking of, Jasper didn’t like the way the clientele noticed Vick when they’d walked in the door, and he hurried her away from them. The parlor had white cement walls, linoleum floors, and black vinyl massage tables tucked into the rooms. As they walked down the hall to the office, a low male groan came from a nearby room.
Must be nice.
He hadn’t dated anyone since his fiancée. Sure, he’d seen to his needs with a casual hookup every now and then, but he hadn’t mentioned it to Vick.
Maybe it was time for some recreational sex again. Being hot and bothered all the time was a distraction, which led to a pine box in his line of work.
Yet, he didn’t want anyone else. Jasper doubted another woman would do.
Pull it together, Jasper. You’re here to do a job.
A young blonde woman emerged from a nearby room with a fistful of cash. She wore a V-neck red tank top and a bra which cinched her breasts up to her neck with a pair of tight jean shorts which showed her ass cheeks. She sauntered down the hall with a smiling man in his fifties trailing after her.
Another satisfied customer.
His upbringing had instilled a sense of chivalry. Despite his mob associations and the bad boy lifestyle, he respected women. He’d never paid for sex of any kind—no hookers, no mistresses.
“I can’t believe these women let themselves be used,” he whispered, wrapping a propriety arm around Vick.
She stiffened. “Maybe they’re usin’ the men, too.”
He thought she’d agree with him. Vick was a beautiful, educated, classy woman with high morals. She’d never stoop to this kind of employment, no matter what her circumstances.
“Don’t give me the whole feminist, her body, her choice thing.”
“Why not?”
“Because it’s wrong. They’re bein’ exploited, abused.” Jasper kept his voice low, not wanting to attract attention. Besides, from what he’d heard about Ms. Wu, she had a temper and a shotgun.
Vick pushed him away. “In case you didn’t notice, she strolled out of the room with a stack of cash. Did the girl look oppressed to you?”
“The guy treated her like an object, used her to get off.”
“No, she profited off his lust.” She fixed him with a stern scowl. “It’s called supply and demand. There’s a reason men pay for sex and women don’t. And if a woman doesn’t have a skill set which commands a lot of money, and she utilizes her, er, assets to make a buck, then it’s her decision, and everyone should respect it. Or at least accept it.”
Damn, but she’s beautiful when angry. Her breasts heaved, her cheeks were rosy, blue eyes flashing. He loved quarreling with Vixen, enjoyed winding her up until she gave him a piece of her mind.
Christ, now I’m leering at her.
“Okay, I get your point, but I still can’t believe it doesn’t bother you.” Jasper shook his head.
“Why? Because I’m a girl?” She tossed her hair back. “People shouldn’t be so puritanical about sex work. Women shouldn’t be ashamed of it.” She wagged a finger at him. “And I’ll tell you another thing, it needs to be legal.”
I’m missin’ somethin’. Why is she so fired up about this?
“Give me all the reasons you like, but most women wouldn’t do it. Like you, for example. You’d never resort to sellin’ your body.”
Her face went chalk white.
Jasper knew he’d just stepped in it, although he didn’t have the foggiest what “it” was exactly. From her pained expression, he knew his words had hurt her somehow. Had Vick’s mother been a stripper or something?
“Jasper, we work for the mafia. We don’t have the right to criticize anyone.” And then she jogged ahead of him.
Vick knocked on the office door at the end of the hallway, and they both entered after Ms. Wu invited them in. The woman reminded Jasper of his grandmother—the twinkle in her black eyes, the silver streaked hair, still sharp as a tack, despite her advanced years.
“Good evening, Ms. Hale, Mr. Tan.” Ms. Wu nodded. “You’re here for payment?” In her pin-striped black skirt suit, she had a respectable vibe.
“Yes, please.” Vick shook her hand. “Pleasure seein’ you again.”
“Likewise.”
Jasper also offered his hand to the lady, and she took it. He was relieved he didn’t have to rough her up. Jasper never wanted Vixen to see that side of him.
When he’d first done these runs as a soldier, most of these collection details didn’t go like this. People borrowed money they couldn’t afford to pay back, and he’d been forced to beat it out of them. That’s why Dix preferred the personal touch for picking up payments—the intimidation factor.
“Here you are.” Ms. Wu pulled an envelope from her desk and offered it to Vick. “It’s all there.”
“Thank you.” Vick counted it anyway, then pocketed the cash.
“So, are you going to head back, or stay in town tonight?” Ms. Wu asked politely.
“I have to get home.” Vick shrugged. “It’s a shame, too. I love Houston.”
Jasper bet she didn’t want to give Jack free run of her house. And he couldn’t blame her. She might come home to find the place ransacked.
“What a pity. Perhaps you’d like a massage before your journey home? To ease the muscles from a cramped car trip?” Ms. Wu arched a sculpted brow. “We get the occasional couple, and they find our massages very soothing.”
“You mean everyone, altogether?” Vixen’s jaw dropped.
“Yes, dear, that’s the general idea. It keeps things fresh.” Ms. Wu folded her hands. “Relationships can lose their spark unless a couple works at it.”
“Uh, you think we’re together?” She scrunched up her nose. “Jasper and me, we’re not a couple.”
Did Vixen have to sound so offended by the notion?
“Nope, we’re strictly friends.”
Jasper straightened and kept his gaze firmly fixed on the wall ahead. And tried his damnedest not to visualize Vixen oiled up, sprawled upon a massage table. With only a towel draped over her hips, as Jasper explored the line of her back. He definitely didn’t think about laying his hands on her thighs and kneading…
Dammit.
“You don’t say?” Ms. Wu chuckled. “Mr. Wolf doesn’t share your opinion.”
“I’ve about had it with people tryin’ to play Cupid,” Vick muttered.
And then it occurred to Jasper he’d been set up. I must be gettin’ slow in my old age.
“Thank you for the kind offer, ma’am, but we’ll be on our way.” He grasped Vick’s hand and tugged her back down the hallway.
After fleeing the parlor, Jasper took Vick to a noodle place across town for dinner. They’d both been quiet on the ride over. Jasper wanted to talk this thing out with her but didn’t know how to bring it up.
Fortunately, they had a good reason not to speak. They ate in strained silence, like a married couple in a fight. He kept waiting for the uneasiness to die down, but it only grew more awkward.
They sat on opposite sides of a booth with large white bowls full of chicken and udon noodles. Growing up, this had been comfort food, and it soothed him. When he’d been sick, his mother had made him a noodle bowl, some tea, and then sent him to bed.
Like most American families, his had a mixture of cultures. Jasper’s mother was white, and she’d learned some dishes from Grandmother Nuwa. And she’d also brought her own traditions to the mix, like barbecue and buttermilk biscuits.
Jasper scanned the room for distraction, something to comment on, talk about it. On the wall next to them, a bulletin board was stuffed with ads for upcoming events.
“Have you ever heard of the Double Seventh Festival?”
“What’s that?” Vick asked.
“I’ll tell you.” He settled back against the seat, relieved to have the ice broken. “The festival’s in August, the seventh lunar month.” Chinese New Year was celebrated in February, not January. “Double Seventh Festival is the equivalent of Chinese Valentine’s Day.” His parents ignored February 14th, choosing to celebrate this holiday instead.
“So, it’s a romantic holiday?” Her cheeks flushed.
Jasper almost choked on a noodle. “Yeah, it honors Niu Lang and Zhi Nu. Now, Niu Lang was a cowboy. Bein’ born in Texas and all, I always related to him.”
She smiled. “Yeah, I’ve seen your customary Halloween costume, John Wayne.”
Jasper loved to strap on some spurs and a ten-gallon hat for the holiday. Last year, Vixen wore a prairie dress, and they’d gone to a party as a pioneer couple.
“Also, like me, he didn’t have much family to speak of. His parents had passed on, and Niu Lang’s relatives didn’t want him around. So, one day, while he’s out takin’ care of his herd, he stumbles upon a beautiful girl, Zhi Nu, which means weaver girl in Chinese.”
“Let me guess, it was a case of love at first sight?”
“Yes, but they had a great big problem standin’ in their way.”
Vick nodded. “Well, true love is never easy.”
“Zhi Nu is the goddess’s seventh daughter and a deity in her own right. Accordin’ to legend, she’s a beautiful fairy girl who bewitched him.”
Jasper knew the feeling. The moment he’d met Vixen, he’d been a lost cause. When he’d walked in Dix’s place one day, she’d been fixated on her computer screen, unaware of his presence, and he’d stopped in his tracks. She was the prettiest girl he’d ever seen. Jasper had wanted to ask her out on the spot, but his loyalty to the outfit stood in the way.
“Zhi Nu escaped from heaven to Earth because she wanted a diversion, but wound up fallin’ in love. Niu Lang felt the same way, and the couple was married without the permission of the goddess.”
“I’m guessin’ that’s a great big cosmic no-no.” Vick rested a hand under her chin, listening.
“Oh, yeah. Like those pesky Greek gods, the Chinese ones can find a million ways to screw a fella over.” As a child, he’d heard all sorts of stories from his grandmother. Curiously, most of them centered on bad things happening to disobedient children who didn’t respect their elders.
“What happened then?”
“For a time, they were happy. They had two children together, but when the goddess discovered their union, she was furious.”
“Well, yeah, her daughter married a mere mortal.”
Vixen was getting into the story. He made a mental note to bring her back here for Double Seventh Day. Sure, it had romantic overtones, but two friends could go, in a strictly platonic sense.
I’m so full of shit.
“Right. So, the goddess took Zhi Nu home and set her back to work, weaving colorful clouds in the sky.”
“Oh, that’s what she was doin’ in the heavens.”
“Yeah, she makes stunnin’ sunsets,” Jasper remembered the story every time he watched the sun sink in the sky.
“So, what happened to the couple?”
“The goddess punished them for eternity by keepin’ them apart. They’re only allowed to be together on the seventh day of the seventh lunar month.”
Food forgotten, Jasper slipped into the booth beside her, somehow, he couldn’t bear even a small space between them. The table felt as wide as the Grand Canyon.
“Hence the term Double Seventh Festival. And how depressin’ is this legend?” Vick scrunched up her nose.
“Hey now. Accordin’ to what I’ve read, St. Valentine was arrested, imprisoned, and executed for marryin’ Christian folks.”
“Fair point. But how do they see one another if she left the earth?”
“Niu Lang was devastated when his wife left. One of the cows told him if he sacrificed the animal and wore its hide, he’d be able to travel to the heavens to find his wife.”
“Talkin’ cows? How does that work?”
“Just go with it. Anyway, Niu Lang also took his two children with him in search of his wife.”
“And the goddess was royally pissed, huh?”
“Oh yeah. She plucked a hairpin from her bun and scratched a wide river in the sky to force them apart. Niu Lang and his two children are on one side, while Zhi Nu is on the other.”
“How awful.”
“That’s the gods for you, but the lovers are together once a year. All of the magpies in the world fly into the sky and form a bridge so they can spend one glorious night in each other’s arms.” His voice lowered, as he imagined being wrapped in Vixen’s arms. “A single evenin’ sustains their love for an entire year.”
Vick licked her lips.
And then Jasper couldn’t remember what the fuck he’d just been saying. His gaze followed the movement, and he imagined tasting her, pressing his mouth to hers. He knew she’d be sweet.
Vixen blinked, as though her thoughts had drifted, too. “How is the, er, festival celebrated?”
“All the usual Valentine rituals—chocolate, flowers, and cards. Though, sometimes young women will burn paper items as an offerin’ and pray for help with their housekeepin’ skills like sewin’.”
“Well, I’d better burn a lot of paper. I got no domestic skills to speak of.”
“Not true. You bake a mean pie. Besides, the legend is a couple thousand years old, so times have changed.” It was an old custom, but it held a lot of charm.
“I see. Speakin’ of folklore, I’ve always wondered about your tattoo, but never thought to ask.” She took his hand in hers, tracing the red ribbon tat encircling his pinky finger. It continued up the length of his hand to wrap around his wrist.
Jasper had gotten it when he’d turned eighteen. At the time, he’d been in love with Leslie and assumed she was his soulmate.
“The red string of fate is another ancient Asian myth.” He slipped his fingers through hers, and his pulse picked up. Even the slightest touch from Vixen sent him up in flames. “It has to do with soulmates. The gods tie us to our destined lovers by a thread at birth, so we must find one another. The legend says the string might be stretched, bent, tangled, but it will never, ever break.”
“And did you find yours?”
“I thought Leslie was mine, but it wasn’t meant to be.”
“So, your soulmate is still out there, waitin’ for you?”
“Maybe she’s closer than I think.”
Even though it was insane, he wondered if the gods might’ve had an altogether different plan. Fate seemed to have thrown him and Vixen together, and from the moment he’d met her, he’d craved more—more of her time, and attention, and touch. Jasper needed more than just her hand in his.
Something had stirred between them. It had to be the myth, and maybe a hint of magic. Who was he to question fate?
Her eyes were at half-mast, and she looked so damn inviting. Jasper had wanted to kiss her mouth dozens of times. No, maybe hundreds, but he’d always pulled back. Which brought him back to the problem.
Would he regret something he didn’t do? Or something he did?
He groaned, swaying closer.
First, Jasper kissed her forehead, and Vixen didn’t protest. Then he dared to kiss the tip of her nose, and then her cheeks. Her rosy mouth had a wet luster.
Jasper cradled her face in his hands and tilted her head to just the right angle. Her eyes fluttered closed, and then he tasted her. She yielded to him, opening, accepting his invasion. It was a leisurely exploration, tentative—a meeting of mouths and moisture and yearning.
Vixen gripped the lapels of his shirt, and his hands settled on her hips. Jasper lost track of the world around them. At this moment, they were the only two people on the planet.
And then they drew back. Jasper rested his forehead against hers as he tried to catch his breath. It hadn’t been the most passionate kiss he’d ever experienced, but it was the most devastating on several levels.
They’d crossed a line. No, he’d crossed a line, one which would divide them. Jasper was sure of it. Already, he wanted to kiss her again, but this wasn’t casual sex. He loved Vixen, and it wouldn’t be long until he fell in love with her.
There was too much at stake, too many reasons they shouldn’t be together. If he lost her over this, Jasper would never, ever forgive himself.
“I’m sorry, Vixen, I shouldn’t have kissed you.”
Her nostrils flared, and she straightened up. And then the moment was over. The dreamy look in her eyes vanished, leaving cool crystal blue in its place.
“You’re absolutely right.”
“I am?”
“It was the story and everyone pushin’ us together. It shouldn’t have happened.”
“Exactly.”
“And it won’t ever happen again.” There was an edge to her tone.
“Right.” Somehow, the thought devastated him, even though he’d been the asshole who’d pushed her away in the first place.
“Okay, well, we’d better go.” Vick wouldn’t meet his eyes.
“You don’t wanna finish your dinner?” He slipped out of the booth.
“No, I’m not hungry anymore.” Vick got up and headed straight for the car outside.
Jasper tossed some cash on the table and hurried after Vick since she had the keys. She might just drive off and leave his sorry ass stranded.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I’m such an idiot.